Destiny
by Shadowfang3000
Summary: "They say destiny never leaves you." - Looting through the remains of Redoran's Retreat a day after clearing it, two close adventurers stumble across a peculiar woman - as well as the dastardly tale behind her existence that could tear their friendship apart. A follow-up to "The Daily Round", and the third story in my TES Series!
1. Everybody Lies

**Destiny**

(A/N): Now this is a plot idea that I was interested in trying out for quite some time!

I've been debating with myself as to how to continue the TES fic series for quite some time from my widespread selection of ideas, yet following the crappy ending of "The Daily Round" it almost seems perfect to lead into this one!

The concept of the story is inspired by an episode of the show "Red Dwarf", more specifically the episode "Camille" from the fourth series. If you've seen it you'll probably understand what I'm getting at here - and why I couldn't help but try it out xD

Let's see how this goes. My first attempt at a somewhat more complex story than usual, so... Good luck me ._.

WARNING: Spelling errors, plot holes, OCs only, inaccurate portrayals of the Daedric princes, some language, a hell of a lot of ellipsis's, purposeful corniness, and a racist Argonian!

**Chapter One: Everybody Lies**

"I assure you, _Redguard_." Wonders insisted, peeking around a rock formation like a timid young child spying on a stranger at the doorstep. The desert man in question remained at his six, his fists buried into the deep pockets of his ragged robes. Continuing on-point, the Argonian mage glanced back as his tongue stabbed at the air. "It's pronounced _'Raid-Dough-Ran'_"

"_Raid-Dough-Ran_?" the wanderer repeated mockingly, replicating his companion's accent with all the compassion that a butcher shows to a leg of lamb. The magician was talking bollocks as usual, or his name wasn't _Stradlater. _The catacombs of Redoran's Retreat seemed just as twisty and turny as they had been before, the now uninhabited cavern resembling the extensive intestinal track of a Forsworn sacrifice. "Sounds like one of those dragon words the _Dovahkiin_ uses." Stradlater pointed out, nudging his comrade's back to help him scale a sudden steep incline.

That got the Argonian to grin - the sort of feral, predatory grin that made all but the bravest of men shudder from natural instinct. "_Exactly_, see?" he pointed out, hoping that the Redguard saw his point of view. Of course, relying on the meat-headed warrior to think with the same creativity as him was like expecting a Khajit merchant to hold up on a trade deal. "Supports my _other_ theory - _tenfold_, yes?"

All his words deserved was a half-arsed shrug. "You mean your 'theory' that he's _actually_ Tiber Septim from a time warp?" he reflected, recalling Wonder's words after he'd had twenty pints too many. The Argonian usually started trying to _eat_ people when he was drunk, so he was more than willing to sit down and listen to his rambling to stop them getting shunned from _another _hold. The Redguard pointed at the mage's satchel, prodding at it with a hammy finger. "Because I _swear_, you ripped that right out of one of your books."

"No I _didn't_." Wonders hissed, swinging his satchel to his front. Like a shy schoolgirl with her head bowed, he tugged at its strap. "... I thought of it _before_ I read the book..."

"Come on." Stradlater beckoned, shuffling ahead. At last they'd reached the expansive clearing of the main chamber, where the objective of their trip was located - a collection of chests. Wonders, in his greed, was adamant in returning to the Retreat to pick it clean of loot and plunder, having missed out on the chance the day before. The desert warrior folded his arms, glancing left and right across the room - no _werebears_ or the sort making a nest, thank the pantheon. "Let's get this over with already; I'd prefer to be back at the _Mare_."

Peering across the room, Wonder's inquisitive eye caught sight of the goldmine within moments. "What for?" he asked, pacing towards the set of containers and grabbing a knee. Turning to face his colleague, he teasingly hovered his hands over his chest, puffing out his robes to resemble the bosom of your average Imperial lap dancer. Of course he was thinking about a certain barmaid, "... The _tankards, _hmmm?_"_

Stradlater leant over to the deserted bedrolls, reaching for an unlit lantern and striking it alight. While the Argonian had downed enough tonics and cateyed potions in the past to cut through the darkness with unblinking eyes, he wasn't so magically inclined. _"The tankards." _he grumbled in response, holding the flickering light source aloft. "You _sick_ lizard, you." he scoffed. Watching the magician cup at his baggy-clothed chest would've gotten him all hot and bothered, if only he was into smelly reptilian racists with all the charm and social grace of a pubic louse.

_Fortunately he wasn't so inclined._

_Unlike a few of the pub regulars._

Swiveling from his position, Wonders began the arduous process of picking at the lock of the largest chest. He'd made sure to purchase a surplus from the general store at Whiterun - two-hundred individual picks to be exact. "I'm not _sick_." he hissed in reply to the Redguard, who stood by his side with his lantern-light casting shadows. "I visited that shrine in Whiterun, I'm perfectly fine!"

At times like this it was best to ignore the magician - and Stradlater did just that. With a grunt of effort the desert nomad slipped onto the floor, leaning his achy back against the curve of the cavern walls. They almost seemed naturally designed for comfort - they meshed into his shape like the cushion of a sofa. "Are we carrying this," he pointed at the chest "or are you just going to have a rummage?"

"_Please_, my friend." Wonders snickered in mock offence, placing the side of his head against the lock. He must've been using his ears, yet the Redguard couldn't spot anything that remotely resembled the hearing implements on his person. "I thought you _knew_ me." The Argonian flinched as there was a click, and after an awkward moment of silence he popped the container's lid wide open. "... _You're_ carrying it. Now let me check what's in it first."

Stradlater rolled his eye - a feat that looked rather silly with just the one. "Of _course_." he agreed, making no effort to even protest. Laying back in place, he let the magician dig through the box like a child at the Hearthfire on his birthday - his teeth bent in a manner that almost resembled a joyful smile. The air was heavy with dampness, and Stradlater couldn't help but be bothered by it. "You know, there's one thing that's off about this place."

"Hmmm?" Wonders mumbled absently, sounding like a housewife appeasing her child as he buried his head into his loot. His voice almost seemed to echo within the confines of the container "What's that?"

_Why, the mammoth in the room of course._

The Redguard pointed to the middle of the clearing. "The _corpse_." he said calmly, gesturing at the smouldering remains of the bandit chief that Wonders had fried to death merely hours ago. No doubt his two followers had fled in the early hours of the morning - meeting up with other bandits, or meeting their end _by _other bandits. "It's moist in here, he's starting to smell up the joint."

Wonders exhaled irritably. "I was raised in a marsh, you were raised in a _dung heap_." he pointed out, his nostrils flaring in ignorance to the stench. He was certain the hard-arsed Redguard could tolerate a bit of stink, what with how much sweat he produced by the gallon. "What are you, a _mer_? Walk it off."

Stradlater couldn't help but settle on a word, bouncing the lantern haphazardly on his knee. "... I thought you called the marsh a _lake._"

Caught off guard, Wonders quickly went for a stock response. "... Needs must."

_Pow, right in the patriotism._

The rattle of picks in locks continued for minutes to come, the green-skinned humanoid digging through chest after chest to check for riches. Of course the Argonian was quite the hoarder - so far he hadn't discarded a single bit of loot, be it a lump of charcoal or the ten-billionth set of leather boots three sizes too small for the both of them. Stradlater busied himself with thoughts of what he could do with his share of the gold - 10% if he were lucky, 2% if he were realistic. He'd likely buy some premium smithing tools from the old Skyforge at Jorrvaskr - he wouldn't dare let Eorlund Graymane be the one who tended to his aged Orcish plate armour.

_It was his gear, and his to preen._

A gust of wind whooshed through the catacombs, the rattle of skipping stones and settling dust echoing down the walls and brushing by his hooded ears. Stradlater leant his head back, letting the sounds of nature surround him in ignorance to the rustling of his companion.

_In time, he heard a whimper._

Within moments it grew louder, accompanied by gentle sniffles that would fit the face of a crying young girl. The Redguard sat up in confusion, wondering if his sleep-deprived brain was finally beginning to lose it. Tugging at his head wrappings he lowered his scarf, ruffling his muddy-brown hair and listening intently. Placing his palms against the dirtied walls, he held his breath and focused.

Wonders blinked audibly, watching the scarred man as he shimmied against the wall like a window-licker in a bakery. "... You contacting your home planet _again_, hmmm?"

Stradlater snarled, glancing back for a fraction of a moment before returning to his bizarre ritual. "Can't you _hear_ that?"

After a brief stare off, the Argonian's eyes spun back to his work. "I can hear you talking, the sound of wind, my talons clicking, my temper _rising_..." he pulled out _another _boot, bit on its toe-cap testingly, then tossed it back in with a disgusted 'bleugh'. "Be a bit more _specific, _Redguard."

"_Whimpers_." He frowned, backing away from the wall. The sounds became quieter as he backpedalled - as if they were coming from an opening _behind _it. "I can hear _whimpering_."

The Argonian clearly couldn't care less, continuing to fork through his goods. "Hmph." he sneered, uncorking a vial and hovering its neck by his nostrils. His tongue peeked from his maw dubiously, stabbing at the air in consideration. "I hear _nothing_ of the sort."

_What a load of chitins._

Stradlater glared at him irritably, hunting for the glint of lies that frequented his eye sockets. So imagine his surprise when no such glow appeared - he'd known the Argonian for quite some time, and with that he _knew _when he was lying or not. Silent-He-Wonders honestly couldn't hear anything, yet the noises _continued _to grow. Growling in frustration, he hobbled back to the wall; his charred hand clutched tightly to his scabbard. "Keep talking. I'll find you." he said to the air, resting his head against the wall.

"I'm right _here_." the magician pointed out dismissively, sneakily slipping a pink-coloured tonic of dubious function under his robes before diving back into his supplies.

"Not _you_." the Redguard grumbled, continuing his determined, mislead hunt for wisps and echoes.

Wonders took this moment to consider the actions of his comrade in arms. True, if he were a common dog such hallucinations would be a signal that he needed to be put down, yet the Redguard did show decent intuition every now and then. A secret opening probably meant _more _gold, and if his experience with tomb raiding was anything to go by then a pile of chests out in the open would be nothing more than a _decoy _to convince the common adventurer that a dungeon was clear. The real loot could be something _grand -_ a _slightly_ larger potion, or boots with a low level enchantment or two. Affectionately patting his snout for such an ingenious deduction, he swung to his feet and sauntered over to Stradlater. "Check for _straight_ cracks." he recommended, moving to his side and tapping at a stony outcrop with the tip of his claws. "Not in your _skull_, in the _wall."_

"_Thanks_ for the tip." The warrior groaned, side-stepping to give his colleague some room. With an outstretched arm he gestured to the opposite end of the space, "You take that side, I'll take-"

"Or I could just find it." Wonders suggested, kneeling down and digging his long, scaly fingers under a small overhang. He glanced back at his foolish companion, who responded with an eyebrow raised higher than a skooma addict in the Cloud District. "You know, _here_."

After tugging at the ground for a moment, the wall suddenly began to turn as if it sat on hinges. In a moment's time it opened like an inverted drawbridge, revealing a pitch-black cavern before them. Wonders folded his arms arrogantly, licking at his itching nostrils much to the Redguard's chagrin. Stradlater tilted his head to peer under the door, briefly glancing back at his companion. "... What do you want, a _sweet roll_?"

"I want a _lot_ of things, Redguard." Wonders said dramatically, tilting his own head to gaze into the shadows. Awkwardly he patted his friend on the shoulder, before backstepping away cautiously. "If you, uhh... Find any _gold_ in there, you know who to call."

_That was expected._

Reaching for the lantern that sat nestled on the floor, Stradlater tied it to an open loop on his tool belt. Grasping onto his blade once more for comfort and inspiration, he tentatively entered the darkness surrounded by his glowing aura. He fingered at the ribbons of his blade hilt, widening his eyes to take in whatever light he could find. "... _Hello_?"

"Me, you call _me_." Wonders called from the pile of chests, watching with mild interest from the relative safety of the main chamber. "... You know that, right?"

Stradlater offered his companion the universal signal for "Shut up, you daft Argonian bastard." with an extended middle finger, before continuing his treacherous advance. The whimpering had strangely remained at the same level of volume for the past few minutes, no matter where he stood. He pressed his back against yet _another_ dusty wall for balance, feeling along the path. The adventurer raised his voice to pierce the blackness, "_Anyone_?"

_It stopped._

The sudden silence was deafening, in its own contradictory way. If it wasn't for the rustle of Wonders digging through his containers barely metres away, the feeling of isolation would've been overwhelming. With his lantern's light so limited in its reach, the small room almost seemed infinite in its size - and for all he knew, that_ could've_ been the truth.

It was only then that he noticed _breathing. _The _timid_ sort of breathing you'd expect from someone who'd been whimpering for a good ten minutes. Stradlater was no inspector, but with his own deductive skills this was certainly a sign - as was the fact that this breathing was in _front_ of him. _Right_ in front of him.

Without warning a pair of frail white arms wrapped around his leg weakly. It was an embrace - one of a lost soul begging for comfort and protection. Stradlater unhooked the lantern from his hip and brandished it, a gentle voice but a mere whisper by his knee. "... H-Hello?" it spoke.

His voice escaped him for moment, his usual gravel losing its hostility. "_Hello._" he uttered to the darkness below him, prompting a withdrawn gasp from the feminine tone below. He shook his head in confusion, glancing back to see a that his colleague was once again nose-deep in his plunder. "Don't fear, I'm..." he began with a restrained whisper, brandishing his lantern between them,"... I'm not one of them _bandits_". Rest assured, he didn't expect what he saw.

_Shining in the light, angelic features._

_She was beautiful._

_We're talking bee-you-tee-full._

_The Girl-Next-Door type, her eyes tinted a perfect sapphire._

_With curves that would make a Dwemer architect blush._

Sparkling with innocence, she shyly hid her eyes against the baggy cloth of his trouser leg. "Y-You're not..." she stuttered, an adorable lisp tugging at the tip of her tongue. Behind her smooth, flowing white hair sat the distinctive points of elvish ears. She must've been a Bosmeri - she had the figure and stature of one, even the faint accent of a native to Valenwood. Gradually she peeked from behind her cover, glancing up at the dirtied face of the desert nomad. "You're... N-Not a _baddie_...?"

"I'm one of the _goodies_." he assured, crouching before the woman and placing the lantern by his side. Her grip on his leg severed, she stared at her toes timidly. The woman appeared to be restrained, with bonds locking her ankles and wrists to their counterparts. Furthermore, a collection of ropes appeared to be coiled around her chest and stomach - what purpose did they serve? They didn't lock her down at all, they simply made her look... _Uncomfortable_. "... Let's get you out of those bonds." he smiled, offering his hand. The Bosmeri gripped onto his large index finger like a dependent child for a moment, before realising what he intended and offering her arms.

"_M-Mmph_..." she squeaked weakly, fidgeting awkwardly as he firmly freed her extremities. Stradlater flushed a bright red at the suggestive sounds she seemed to be involuntarily making, her movements accentuating her ample bust. On the topic of busts, he tugged at the tight ropes that accentuated her breasts, trying his best to release them from their confines. "_H-Hey_..."

"Sorry, they're..." he fiddled with the ropes more, feeling like a teenager trying to remove a girl's training bra on a first date. "... T-They're _very _tight."

"Be _rougher_ with me..." she advised, leaning against the Redguard hotly. She gazed up at him sheepishly, her gentle hands gripping onto the rags of his robes as she offered her vulnerability to him. Stradlater obeyed her recommendations, prompting her to breathe deeply - in _that_ sort of way "...T-There..."

"_There_ we go." Stradlater chuckled warmly, eager to get his hands away from her before he did something _cheeky._ The bundle of ropes fell to the floor, leaving the woman free to move - and rather _cold_ looking. The warrior fiddled with the handle of his lantern, offering his hand to the young Bosmeri. "... Can you walk?"

Staring at his hand briefly like a native of Sentinel admiring their first snowfall, she made it half-way through a nod. "... I-I think so." the girl whispered with not a single drop of confidence in her words. Her legs shaking with effort and the chill, she began to stand with her hand supported by the large Redguard. "A-Ah!" she yelped, stumbling into his arms in mere moments in that rom-com kind of way.

The girl felt lighter than the brushes of a feather, and Stradlater was easily able to support her. "I've got you, just..." he draped his arm over her shoulders, clutching onto her tightly and letting the light clatter to the floor. He'd never been that good at the whole 'support-walk' thing all the war heroes seemed to do in plays and novels - it was _harder _than it looked. Patting her arm reassuringly, he led her forward. "Let's take it _slow_..."

Bosmeri or not, all beauties seemed to make the _cutest_ of noises at times. Mewling gently, she rested her head under the cover of his arm - the height difference was just _adorable._ "You're touching my..." she sniffled lightly, her lips curling innocently as her large saviour awkwardly pulled his hand away from her bosom. "... I-It's _okay_, I... Don't mind."

_Why was her giggle so brief?_

_Why couldn't it be longer?_

Slowly but surely they emerged from the darkness, their shadows cast ahead by the glimmering flame of the abandoned lantern. Wonders was sitting lazily on the shut lid of his treasure chest, no doubt having stuffed everything he could get his mitts on into the singular box. His refusal to stand up only supported this inference - it'd probably _burst_ without his weight. He opened his gob to speak, yet was taken aback by the presence of the newcomer at Stradlater's side. Scanning her from tits to bottom - as he often did with women - he raised a questioning talon.

The Redguard was having none of that. "_Save it._" he muttered, shuffling past the man. The young lady nuzzled against his shoulder, hiding her eyes from view. The Bosmeri were an isolated bunch; what if Wonders was the first Argonian she'd ever seen? He clenched onto her shoulder reassuringly, glaring at the confused magician. "We should get her back to Whiterun. The Temple of Kynareth'll know what to do, they deal with this sort of thing _all_ of the time."

Wonders raised his hands defensively, his tail wagging like a confused dog's. "What, people falsely accused of _insanity_?"

Stradlater snickered, putting his free hand on his hip with sass. "It wasn't an _accusation_, the Jarl was just pointing it out". The Argonian crossed his legs like a lap dancer, leaning forward questioningly - a pair of charred, armoured shins dangled from the half-opened chest lid; flinching with his movements.

_That explained where their old bandit friend went off to._

All it took was a less-than subtle pat on his makeshift seat punctuated by two kicks of the rotting corpse's inanimate feet to convey the message to the Redguard, who kissed his teeth in frustration. "... Oh for the _love_ of..."

X

With his scaly fists buried into his deep pockets, Silent-He-Wonders led the procession through the setting sun of Skyrim's expansive fields. They were in the most awkward position possible - just _close_ enough to see the city walls, yet just _far_ enough for it to be unsafe to continue the journey through the night; _especially _with the woman in tow. The Argonian made certain to point this out to his companion, who reacted with a spiteful venom that rarely cursed his tongue.

"There, in the treeline." Stradlater gestured with a prod of his angular nose, bearing a chest-full of vendor trash and a carcass _wearing _vendor trash on one shoulder and a clingy woman on his other. Shrugging his shoulders neutrally, the Argonian obeyed his 'wisdom' and followed his suggestion. The treeline was surprisingly thick up close - more than enough to shroud them from onlookers. "I'd rather not camp in the open. Set up here."

Without a care in the world the desert wanderer tossed the chest onto the floor, much to his companion's frustration "Oi, _careful_!" he growled, quickly slipping to his knees to check the state of his haul. The magician caressed it like the frail body of a newborn, brushing his fingers along the grooves of the rotten chest. "There might be enough gold in there to get me _two _draughts!"

For a brief moment Stradlater glanced at the twinkling jewels of his _own_ treasure's eyes, before turning back to the irritating reptile. "Wow, _two_?" he repeated sarcastically, not even paying attention to the Argonian's lacklustre response. Gently he lowered the girl onto the chest, helping her take a seat and examining the red marks left by the bonds on her wrists. "_Here_, this should do for now. Are you okay?"

She tugged at her ragged clothing weakly, her slender arms floating within the Redguard's grip. "M-Mhmm..." she squeaked shyly, apologetically bowing her head. The young woman probably _despised _being vulnerable like this - who'd want to be so helpless and fragile? "I'm s-so... _Sorry_."

"It's fine, it's _fine." _Stradlater reassured frantically, hesitantly brushing a hand through her beautiful head of hair. The girl flinched in surprise, yet quickly fell calm as he curled her twirling locks between his finger tips. If anything she almost seemed tranquil, like a kitten under the stroking hands of its owner. "Are you _cold_? Are you _hungry_?"

_On the topic of cats..._

Affectionately she nuzzled against his hand, her pulse and heart calming with his comforting touch. Wonders settled on a dry patch of the ground lazily, raising an eyebrow at the duo before turning to his talons - not a single word bursting from his slimy snout. "... A-A little bit _cold..." _she responded, which the Redguard listed in his mind's eye. Pressing her chest against the desert nomad's arm, her gentle breaths tickled like a quill at his neck. "But... _You're_ warm..."

"A-All right." Stradlater sighed, taking a seat on the chest alongside her. Awkwardly he wrapped the cloak of his garb over the Bosmeri's body, letting her snuggle ever so closer to him. A distinctive silence fell between them, the idle calls of nirnroot and bugs being all that filled the night air. The Redguard's chest rose and fell with the shy feeling of love, the elf's presence being all that was needed to get his heart pumping. Their states of mind had practically reversed - he needed a topic, and Wonders wasn't an option. He rustled the girl's shoulder for her attention. "... What's your _name_?"

The Bosmeri grumbled cutely, having been enjoying the comfort Stradlater's shoulder provided. "... _Destiny_..." she chimed, rubbing at her eyes cutely. Blinking a few times, her glowing sapphires spun to meet his dull onyxes. "... I-I _think_..."

"_Destiny_." he repeated - a unique, beautiful, mysterious name for a lady demonstrating _all_ of the above. "_Destiny_." he rolled on his tongue, adoring pronouncing the word. He'd never be able to say it again now without thinking of her - what a _nuisance_. Wonders raised his brow at his peculiar speech, yet his lack of eyebrows made it rather unnoticeable. "Do you know _where_ you are Destiny?"

_Destiny, Destiny, Destiny._

_You, my dear, are my Destiny._

Destiny's eyes dimmed, the glow in Destiny's outstanding ceruleans weakening with sadness. Destiny frowned with a sudden surge of depression, Destiny's curvy shoulders lowering. "_No_."

_Destiny, Destiny, Destiny._

_Never cry - never doubt - never fear._

"Shhh, don't _cry._" The Ra Gardan begged childishly, cuddling the Bosmeri and rubbing at her smooth back. She was beginning to tremble once more - and he'd have _none _of that. "I'll look after you... I _promise_."

Destiny pushed against his chest gently, and without question he loosened his grip. The young mer gazed upwards within the shield of his brawny arms, her eyes twinkling with emerging tears. If her sapphires became any brighter, they'd become_ perfect_ diamonds. She licked her lips, "You do...?"

_I do, I do._

_Two simple words I'd long to hear in echoes._

The air dripping with corniness, he reached for one of her timid hands and pressed it against his thumping chest. "Bottom of my _heart_." he smiled reassuringly, stroking her injured wrist with his thumb. "... Goodies _never_ lie."

Her blush was all it took to fill him with satisfaction. What he'd give to see it again - her cute, adorable cheeks flushing with the reddened warmth of girly embarrassment. "Thank you... _Sir_..."

Stradlater tutted, having forgotten his introduction: "_Stradlater_, that's my name." he bowed his head, which she mimicked with a restrained giggle. Glancing to his side he spotted his forgotten colleague, who appeared to be staring at him as if he'd just grown a pair of rabbit ears and had started singing _Ragnar the Red_ in a high pitched girl's voice. Their eyes briefly met, and a peculiar grin filled his bestial maw - it was _unsettling_, to say the least. "... And him, he's _Wonders_. Don't mind him."

They returned to silence - his second favourite activity since they'd met, just behind conversation. Stradlater could feel Destiny's thumping heart pressed against his own, matching his rhythm affectionately. Such closeness was to be expected - if he were to protect such an innocent girl, it only seemed right they'd be _connected _in some way.

_It must've been fate._

_A sign from the sands?_

Another nudge roused her from a snooze - he felt so cruel for doing so, but he _needed_ to know. "... Still cold?"

"... M-Mmm..." the mer nodded hesitantly, the thin rags of Stradlater's robes having been designed for protection from the _sun_ rather than the _moon_. The shadows grew closer, and the fabled snow of Skyrim's highlands no doubt tempted fate this day - what if this was her first time outside in the harsh climate of the province? He had so many questions left to ask - yet they had so much time ahead of them, _together_.

"It's getting darker." he said to no one in particular, Wonder's scaly tail perking up in response. He'd hoped that'd be a sign for the Argonian to get chopping, yet if experience told him anything it was that the poor, wretched excuse for a colleague wasn't to be relied on for such simple tasks. It pained him to let her go, but _needs must_; it was for her own good. "... I'll go get some fire wood."

_She didn't like that, that's for certain._

_Destiny, Destiny; she never wants to leave you._

The timid flower tugged on his beefy hands, begging him to stay by her side. "W-Wait."

Stradlater simply smiled, tearing off his cloak and draping it over her form. "Don't worry Destiny, _Wonders_'ll look..." he was about to point out the slimy magician, yet such a perverted creature would be no help at all. He combed her hair back once more, embarrassed by her sniffling - she was _smelling_ the rag; _his_ smell brought her comfort. "... You'll be _fine_."

His assurance was all she needed, as she curled up shyly with the clingy maroon garment she'd been gifted. Rising from the treasure chest cum chair, Stradlater wandered over to the stationary Argonian and clicked to grab his attention. "_Hmm_?" he mumbled absently, his gaze darting from Destiny to the Redguard. "Could you grab me a _cheese wedge_ while you're out, friend?"

"No _funny_ business." The Redguard growled lowly, his eye filling with a hostile anger that rarely featured on his limited list of emotional states. The Argonian tilted his head in confusion, having been concerned about the brute's behaviour ever since he'd recovered the woman. He scratched his nose lazily, stepping over the seated lizard. "I'll be _five_ minutes."

"Of _course_." he smiled, his jagged rows of teeth glistening in the moonlight to produce a peculiar rippling effect. "I'll keep it in... Uhh... My _breeches_." he joked, hauling himself to his feet. Stradlater didn't groan at the comment like he usually did - he simply glared at him judgingly, as if he was wondering how the Argonian would look as a suit of scale-hide armour, or an adornment on his wall. Wonders blinked, feeling like an exposed young girl being admired by a suitor "... Yes?"

Reluctantly the Redguard departed from the campsite, stumbling through the thick foliage of Skyrim's grasslands in hunt for grounded logs. At last alone with his colleague's catch, a perverse grin stretched at Wonder's teeth - an expression that was instantly mirrored by the seated Destiny with lusty precision. The magician leant forward smugly, his lithe tongue wiggling at her suggestively as he paced towards the seated woman. "Well, well, _well_." he hissed, the musky pheromones unique to his race rising from his murky scales. He tapped at a canine with a sharpened talon, making sure to flash them both and their manicured quality to the woman before him. "Strange to see another _Saxheel_ so far from the homely spring _lakes_, my dear..."

_Very strange indeed._

X

(A/N): Blast-my-_eyes_, it's so awkward to _purposely _write romance in a terrible, predictable, corny way. I only hope people could survive that terrible pacing to get to the ending of this chapter, so they can realise that things aren't quite as they seem! :O

After all: Everybody lies!

See you at the next chapter, have a good night/day/inbetween! :D


	2. A Matter of Perspective

**(A/N):** The continuation continues with another continuation...!

It's funny actually, this chapter initially had a big ramble about AS Level results but then again I started writing this in August! So, I just pulled it out and filled it with this ramble to take up space xD

Anywho, hopefully this chapter lives up to the hype that my mind's been bestowing it, because I'm known for disappointing myself when it comes to such things ._.

Let's get kicking!

**WARNING**: Spelling errors, language, awkwardness, pathetic attempts at comedy and bizarre attempts at being edgy and original despite stating in the A/N of the first chapter that I was ripping off an episode of a popular British TV Show!

**Chapter Two: A Matter of Perspective**

More often than not a good pair of breasts was all Wonders needed to get his musk pumping over-time. However, elegant and colourful scales like the palette of an elven artist smacked off his face from skooma tended to seal the deal. Rest assured; if the Argonian beauty before him had any other hues in her myriad of tones she'd cause widespread _seizures_ to onlookers with one bounce of her curvaceous bosom.

_Mind you, he was already frothing from the mouth a tad._

The exotic beauty flashed her maw, practically blinding him with its glorious might. "Hmmm... I could say the same for you, _fangs_." The Argonian dame hissed in response to his greeting, admiring the mage's well treated and pointed teeth. The Redguard often gave him weird looks for sharpening his jagged enamel with butter knives and tankard rims, but who was laughing _now_? "A magician _and_ a Saxheel, so deep into Skyrim... Enough to make one _gasp_!"

Silent-He-Wonders held onto a '_pfft_' longer than his curling tail. "Oh, _please_." He joked, snorting and chuckling in a way that effortlessly combined the manly confidence of a knight in shining armour with the dorky nervousness of a teenager hiding an erection at a familial gathering. "These Nordic _buffoons_ are nothing to me, my _darling_." Wonders purred, his tongue dangling from betwixt his rough gob; her bust was so large and _juicy_ that he was curious as to how she was able to _stand_ without tipping over in perpetual motion! "_Nothing_..." he eventually repeated, not quite sure how long he'd left it.

_He wondered how they'd feel between finger and thumb._

_Silently, of course, he wondered._

The dame blinked rapidly, the audible flutter of expertly curled eyelashes bearing such force that the snarky mage struggled to stay true in his seated position. "You're _drooling_, handsome." She pointed out in concern, leaning closer to accommodate her _magnificent_ mammaries. "Are you _okay_?"

"Okay? _Bah_!" The magician eventually scoffed, batting a claw dismissively at the temptress. "I'm _excellent_! Fit as a towering _oak_!" he grinned, flexing his weedy arms and growling like the macho-ist infant in the playpen. After a brief silence he crossed his legs, resting his baggy sleeves over his lap. "... So you are called _Destiny_?"

"Destiny-In-_Waters_." The vixen noted, teasingly mimicking his posture – pressing her breasts up higher than the _peak_ of The Throat of the World; her _nipples_ no doubt the snow-capped points. She gestured back to the shadowed woodlands behind her, where deep within the grumpy and protective Redguard chopped for wood – with the sharpness of his _tongue_, at this rate. "I wouldn't tell _him_ my full name!"

Wonders snickered at her bluntness, glad that he wasn't the only one who didn't particularly enjoy tolerating the block-headed warrior. "He wouldn't be able to _pronounce_ it, my dear." He pointed out, the dangerously curled talons upon his toes wiggling to a peculiar rhythm. "You know what _men_ are like."

"Oh _yes_!" Destiny agreed enthusiastically, oblivious to the male's locked eyes bouncing to a beat. She hurriedly rested a hand upon her buxom bosom, preventing Wonders from spewing out his dinner with dizziness and lust. "Of course, such _perverts!_" she eventually continued, "_Always_ thinking with their _crotches._"

The mage took a moment to pull his jaw back into position, forcing some blood into his limp tongue. "_Certainly_!" he acknowledged like the kiss-arse he was, his nostrils flaring with barely suppressed contempt. "With their _sweat_ and their _hairs_!" the male listed, shuddering with every vowel like a pompous noble bragging to the common rabble about his adventures in the Cloud District. "Only the _Hist_ could know why they grow beards. To store _ale _perhaps?"

_He could've sworn some Nords packed their lunches in those things._

_Goat Leg, with sliced venison, salted beef, and a side dish of diced dog – with an extra helping of venison!_

Stradlater had actually tried to grow a beard once, having initially had trouble adapting to the change of climate in Skyrim to his native Sentinel. Rest assured; the complaints of itchiness and lice were so common that Wonders had initially offered to _burn_ the whole damn thing off free of charge. Ever since a particularly excruciating ordeal involving an elven dagger, a cup of troll fat, and an entire _litre _of healing tonic, the tanned fighter had settled for maintaining a decently well-kept set of facial hair; albeit a smug one that made his increasingly common grins look larger and nuttier than a mountain giant's first dump of the day.

He doubted there was even a _need_ for a campfire at this point: the beauty of the dame deemed Destiny was intensifying; she sparkled cutely - both literally _and_ metaphorically – and practically blinded him with her bright glow. As he continued to admire the female's frame with less effort to be stealthy about it than a dragon gnawing on a Watchtower, she calmly caressed her colourful, eye-catching body as if she were posing for a painting - although even the brushwork of the greatest artists of High Rock would _never_ do her justice. "I've had _plenty_ of men admiring my scales in the past, you know." She commented, all but acknowledging Wonder's googly eyes, "_Without_ my permission!" Destiny exhaled hotly, the rise and fall of her chest steadying under the magician's 'vigilance'.

"Oh, you _poor_ thing!" Wonders mumbled in understanding, the sincerity of his tone as trusting as a Dunmer thief with an affinity for sweet rolls. Eagerly he tilted his head, the glint of his eye increasing in magnitude as he investigated every womanly bump he could lay his – albeit _perverted_ – sight on. "Men are a simple _species, _my jewel!" he continued to murmur, his skull practically merging with his scrawny chest and nuzzling within its cavity for a better view. "Alas, we are all forced to _tolerate_ their _hubris_!"

Destiny hissed hotly, the lusty sound of acknowledgement sending shivers through Wonders spine, before taking a detour around his knees and ending slap-bang at the tip of his tail. "_Mmmm…_" she smiled, timidly caressing the male's angular cheeks with her rough – yet _comfortable – _palms. "_Shameful_, if you ask me. Too few _noble_, _headstrong_ and _wisened_ Saxheel." she grinned, eying the magician's skinny and pathetic body as if he was a Nordic heavy lifter immortalised in a sculpture of the finest ebony.

For the longest of moments an uncharacteristic silence filled the air between the sex symbol – and Destiny. To be perfectly honest, Wonders had often thought about why _some_ people were so obsessed and entranced by the _purity_ of Argonian women folk. Barely a month ago Stradlater had competed with him for the hand of a gentle girl of his kind, and the Redguard was more aggressive over her ownership than a bull baron on the piss.

Just why on _Nirn_ did he want Soft-Her-Scales to be _his_ those weeks ago?

What had lured him to Destiny-In-Waters _now_?

_Maybe because they were both cold-blooded?_

He'd thought long and hard about theories, and one often resurfaced whenever they cleared out abandoned crypts or caves or castles filled with the kind of nerdy summoners and magicians who cut their own hair with bowls and hatchets; that perhaps he was a _necrophile_.

It made sense in _theory_. Why else was he so keen to shove his cutlass through the ribcages of reanimated skeletons, snuggling up close and wiggling it within to rattle what was left of its internal organs – waking up dust mites and causing a mass eviction of the undead's squatting residents?

The peculiar swordsman tended to give Draugr the most awkward of grins mid-combat, his lips tightening as he ran them through against the mossy walls of their burial grounds. No doubt he was a fan of having a _choice_ of holes to penetrate – with his throbbing, wetted _weapon_, mind.

_No wonder why he polished it regularly._

That particular train of thought came careening to a halt like a horse and carriage trying to do an extreme drift and wheelie across the icy roads of Skyrim – a trick that the Argonian had reenacted _several_ times himself. Destiny shuddered exaggeratedly, folding her arms upon her cleavage as if she was having trouble bearing their collective weight. "_Brrrr_!" she snickered, pining for his attention – not that she needed to _try. _"These garments… So _clingy_."

_Oh, he'd noticed._

_How he'd noticed._

Leaving the slightest of indentations upon the dew-gathering grass they sat upon, Destiny stealthily began to close the distance between them. "Those _dastardly hooligans; _leaving me in such a _chilly_, _lonely_ chamber like that…" she whined, forming into a seductive crawl that did _everything _to flash the fresh cabbages. "The dampness of those caves was _poor_ for my clothing..." the temptress sat up upon her knees, tugging at the underside of her ragged shirt and revealing the translucent fabric of her vest – a slender, slinking waist the colour of envy sheltering within. The garment was almost like her: _showing_ everything up front, yet _hiding_ everything all the same."… Do you mind if I take _these_ off?"

Perhaps she lacked a concept of basic social etiquette, because she'd already stripped down before Wonders could so much as make a witty comment. "A-A _clever_ girl, I see!" he stuttered, her exposed collar bearing a surprising sense of mystery and intrigue to it – he'd spent so long staring at the obvious that he hadn't even _considered_ the full package, for there was a lot more to beauty than the size of one's chest! "It's uhh… A _bad_ idea to wear clothes… Damp! _D-Damp_ clothes… In the _cold_…" he stammered, sounding like he was reciting some sort of arcane incantation involving frost magicks. He leant back stiffly, scooting a few inches away – like a silent monk who'd wandered into the aftermath of an Orcish mating ritual only to learn that the chieftain was blind. "'less you want a _cold_!"

Her advance continued, the jiggling of her breast intensifying without the prison of her tight rags. "Saxheel _wisdom_, hmmm?" she flirted, grasping onto the firm right-angle of his arm and caressing it within her grasp. The entire limb fell limp – no doubt the stiffness of it was needed _elsewhere. _"And I'm _sure _such a clever_, well-endowed _gentleman could tell me more?" Destiny cooed, resting her chin upon the point of Wonder's gawky shoulder – her twinkling gaze fixed on his reptilian grimace. The temptress pressed on, smiling at him expectantly like a young girl indirectly asking for a treat.

Wonders nodded autonomously, trying to stop himself from melting into a pile of mush and smelly scales at the mere _sight_ of the woman before him. Childishly Destiny reached out her hand, tapping her angular talons at the mage's teeth in barely contained admiration. "They're…" the embarrassed Argonian mumbled, the subtle clink of her claws sending shocks down his spine with every tick and clack. He improvised – as he _often_ did – like the _charming_ devil he was. "… A-As sharp as my _mind_…?"

_He'd seen Hagravens with better flirting skill._

_Although to be honest, those creatures could be quite poetic - providing you were drunk at the time._

Whatever the emotion that filled Destiny's features was, it certainly wasn't a _negative_ one – more of a neutral, quizzical visage you'd expect on a local priest listening to a peasant prattle on about how hard their life was. "How… _Poetic_." She eventually settled on, pressing her boobage against Wonder's frozen arm. Like a deadly assassin of the Dark Brotherhood her claw silently grazed across his chest, moving downwards with renewed purpose. "You _truly_ have a way with words, _handsome_." Destiny complimented, continuing down, down, _down_ until - with confusion - she met something.

A firm, stubby shaft.

That certainly caught her off guard. "… What's _this_?"

'_Twas Tater-Masher, his mace, strapped securely to his belt._

Eagerly she clutched onto his mighty weapon, squeezing its head and admiring its empowering girth. Wonders shifted uncomfortably; the mace's pommel was prodding his leg harshly, leaving pained marks upon its surface. "_N-Nothing_!" he yelped cowardly, his protests sounding more pitiful than an Orcish bard's attempt at reciting The Age of Oppression – in_ Solitude, _as the Jarl and General Tullius watched on. The magician fidgeted on the spot impatiently, the chafing against his scales growing hotter and hotter – in more ways than _one_, to be brutally honest. "You're making me _uncomfortable_…"

That just made her grin grow wider and fiercer; the sort of grin you'd expect from someone who could eat week old stale tavern bread _without_ any mead. "What's _wrong_?" Destiny briefly pouted teasingly, running her talons across the dents and age-old cranial matter that comprised the rest of the enchanted mace's dome. For the briefest of moments she squeezed it, granting Wonders a mere moment _within_ a moment to catch his breath, before returning to her unintended torture. "My, so _cold_…"

If Argonians could blush, he would've been redder than your average Mythic Dawn cultist who'd been told his arse was showing through a crude set of limericks. "B-Because no one's _touched_ it before!" the pained male exhaled airily – a sign interpreted a _tad_ bit incorrectly by his host for the hour.

_Click, click, click._

"How about _you_?" she urged, glad to see Wonders gritting his teeth as she hastened – a bit of his skin having flaked off like a scab torn from a freshly healed limb stump. The pain was mostly comparable to wiping your nostrils with your ragged robe sleeve on a cold Frostfall, leaving nothing but sore aches and snotty flakes for all to see. Her enthusiasm and encouragement growing, she spoke domineeringly. "Don't you hold it _abundantly_?"

Wonders fell silent shyly, suddenly feeling glad that he had a hood to shroud his insecurities – for he couldn't dare to look her in the eye. Her pumping slowed to grant him solace, allowing him to collect his bearings and respond. "… _E-Everyday_…" he admitted hesitantly, hoping to keep the conversation going before the _entirety _of his leg was sawn off by the friction. "… Don't tell _anyone, _I _beg_ of you."

That prompted an endearing giggle from her, and for the briefest of moments Wonders didn't _care_ if he became a cripple if it would let him hear such an angelic chime once more. His snout flared with distaste: He was beginning to sound like _Stradlater_. "It's perfectly _natural, _fangs!" Destiny placated, her rapid mill-like movements no doubt chipping and peeling the rust from the mace's neck in the same fashion as the plated scales atop Wonder's thigh! "It's the best way to let out _stress_."

_How right she was._

_Smashing skulls into pulp after frying their contents into a fine soup never got old._

Be it either a sign of salvation or _damnation_, a heavy rustle echoed through the surrounding foliage and canopies as a tall figure wrestled through the undergrowth with heavy hands. Wonders could _taste_ the combined stench of cheap ale, boiling sweat, charred flesh and sexual frustration - enough to tell it was Stradlater from sixty paces. Like skooma salesmen scarpering from hold gates at sun-up, Wonders hastily yanked his weapon from the female's ardent grasp; she seemed unphased even _with_ the smell.

"_Hmmm_?" she said, the sound somehow managing to roll off her tongue as if she'd invented an entirely new word.

Wonders couldn't believe she hadn't noticed. "That _smell_?" he pointed out, causing her to flare her nostrils in search of this apparent scent. Wonders shuffled away like a grounded horse when its rider wasn't looking as she was preoccupied, stifling the whimpers of his aching body. "You know, the one that stinks like the backend of an electrocuted _skeever_?"

Her blinks were louder than a foppish orange hat and rose pink outfit worn during a funeral parade. "… Oh." She eventually mumbled, as if coming to a sudden understanding. Her expression filled with the glow of comprehension, and her gaze snapped to the wounded male – who froze on the spot as if hit by a paralysing bolt. "Oh! Yes, I _see_… Or rather, _smell_!"

_If his chuckle was any more condescending, it would've caused widespread depression within the local youth._

Breaking free from the surprising maze of the flatlands, the familiar Redguard stood with the sort of epic pose reserved by heroes and stage actors – chest out, and a back straighter than Wonder's sexual orientation. Hauled upon his shoulder sat a collection of strung logs, sitting snugly within the comforting curve of his biceps. The lack of an axe on hand or belt suggested _two_ possibilities – either he conveniently 'found' the lumber strewn amongst the woods, or he'd sliced down an oak with a single swing of his mighty, thick skull.

_The latter was far more likely._

Stradlater glared at his Argonian companion suspiciously for a time, his single coloured eye squinting with disgust. Satisfied that he'd filled the mage with enough fear and anxiety for the moment to get by, he glanced back at Destiny – his face becoming softer than the woman's luscious bottom within an instant. "Did he do _anything_?"

The Bosmer shuffled towards him, tugging the Ra Gardan cloak draped across her back close. Staring at the boots of the towering man before her, she spoke with a sense of guilt – as if she feared she had made the Redguard cross. "I-I was _cold_."

"Certainly _sounds_ like it, with all that stuttering." He smirked, oozing charm like pus from a whitened wound. Wonders pursed his non-existent lips with confusion, his curious and darting eyes remaining entirely ignored by the duo before him – Destiny _certainly_ wasn't stuttering at the moment, that's for sure; she was speaking with the strength and composure of a strong, independent lady. Stradlater beckoned her over, falling to a crouch and slinging the logs over with a collection of dull clunks. "Come here, I'll start a fire. That'll warm you up."

As the wanderer got to work, Destiny took the briefest of moments to glance back at the magician. Teasingly she winked at him, gesturing to the knelt man in a judging manner. They shared a grin at his expense, before she returned to dealing with the selfish Redguard before her - her flawless rump and stretching tail swaying with confident grace.

He'd arranged the logs in a cone-like fashion, scraping the paste-like mud with dirtied hands to secure the base. Destiny knelt beside him, clinging onto her frail legs childishly as he perfected his craft. "You know, it's _funny_ really." He muttered conversationally, sprinkling some make-shift tinder from the leaf-laden ground onto the lacklustre effigy before them. Licking his lips he dug into his pockets, the young girl's eyes following his every movement like an untrusting deer. "Building campfires… Always feels _good_."

_Oh, please._

_Was this really his attempt at flirting?_

Following his example Destiny shyly picked at the grass, tossing small strands of green and beige onto the small fire-pit. Stradlater urged her on approvingly; glad to have assistance from _someone_ – no matter how _small_. Her delicate fingers struggled to tear even the thinnest blades of viridian and turf, the tips of her digits turning white with effort. "I-It's… Nice to _build_ things…"

The Redguard nodded happily, at last procuring what he was after – a small striking flint he'd bought off a caravan during a brief stay in Rorikstead. Wonders had assured him that his magicks were far more reliable than such primitive devices, but if today was anything to go by he wouldn't _always _have the dastardly bastardly _bastard_ on his side. "Better than _destroying_ things, that's for sure." He smirked, slowly drawing his scimitar from the confines of his scabbard and laying it across the ground. "… A lesson a _lot_ of people need to learn."

Destiny frowned with distaste, her stained hands rearing back from the monument of their combined efforts as Stradlater began the arduous process of striking flint-on-steel. Wonders watched on judgingly, wondering if the warrior had written a poetic speech for just this occasion. "It's bad…"she whispered gloomily, resting her gentle chin upon the knobs of her knees. The clink and spark of the Redguards strokes illuminated her eyes briefly, granting them an extraordinary twinkled under the moonlight. "… W-Why do people _hurt_ eachother?"

_To further their own goals, Wonders thought._

_It's as simple as that, isn't it?_

Stradlater let loose a long, drawn-out sigh – his shoulders sagging as his lungs squeezed out every last drop of air they could contain. Wonders briefly feared that the desert nomad had just committed a rather elaborate form of _suicide_, only for him to speak up once more after an uncharacteristically long pause. "One of life's _big_ questions, I suppose." He examined the flint, tapping at its tip to check for bluntness. "I've always thought it was because it was so _easy_…"

The Bosmer gulped, glancing at him with an expression mixing shock, unease – and childlike concern. "… To… _Kill_?"

Forlorn wouldn't be a suitable word to describe his expression, as he stoically glared at the non-existent flames before him - striking once more but to no avail. "It's far too easy..." he muttered, a twitch of frustration tugging at his nostrils.

There had been generations of bloodshed through the forging of his people, from their invasion of Western Hammerfell to the settlement of the deserts, from the disputes and civil wars between brothers and sisters to their final stand against the dreaded Aldmeri Dominion. Like so many of his kind he'd claimed a fair share of lives across the proving grounds of war.

_But like so few of his kind, he found no enjoyment in it._

There was no joy to be found in killing, no matter how much the Forebears and Crowns prattled on about nationalism and the heat of battle. It was a strange thing how a life years long; full of memories, anger, relationships and more; could be ended with something as _simple_ as a jagged shard of metal.

_How many widows and orphans had he made?_

_This year?_

_This week?_

Stradlater clenched his teeth, his grimace hidden by the flatness of his scarred visage. After a brief moment of tension his features relaxed – well, as _relaxed_ as someone with a face sharper than the High King's haircut could look. The Redguard smiled at the Bosmeri comfortingly, as if her beauty alone drained all of the bitterness from his mind's eye."… You're still cold?"

That caused her incessant blushing to take an all new level of red; putting the knight's _namesake_ to test, no doubt! Reaching for her shoulders she tugged at Stradlater's cloak, wrapping it even tighter across her frame as if she were preparing herself to be mummified and tossed into a sarcophagus. "N-No…" she mewled, the chattering of her spotless teeth _ruining_ her attempts at putting on a face.

The distant Argonian felt like a Nord in Windhelm, staring across the street at the animal enclosures where all the Dunmer were crammed together in horrendous conditions and insulted by passersby. If anything that was the one _redeeming _factor of those greasy Stormcloaks: They may have gotten the racial superiority thing wrong, but they _did_ know how to treat a Dark Elf properly! Silently he watched on, wondering how much longer Destiny would be able to cope before her hands wrapped around his rusted shaft, tugged hard, and clubbed the irritating Redguard across the chops with his throbbing mace.

With one last strike the fire burst to life, instantly spreading across the sprinkled tinder and casting a warm glow brighter than a Dominion soldier in the middle of being electrocuted. Stradlater, _always_ fond of corniness, rubbed his hands together alongside the dancing flames. "Try it." he recommended, flipping his palms and heating his burnt and cracked knuckles. "Nice and _toasty_, hmm?"

_He certainly wasn't the perfect example for fire safety, was he?_

The mage couldn't help but snicker in the background, prompting Stradlater to roll his eyes. He too wanted to warm himself without the _effort_ of setting something on fire, but he was too nervous to face the Redguard's overprotective wrath - his breath itself was _boiling_ enough, if that was any consolation. "You certainly _smell_ toasty." he commented rudely, staring at the wanderer's nose to avoid the bile and distaste of his eyes. He could see Destiny grinning at his witty comment - the sole audient to his comedy _gold_. He gazed into the jewels of her eyes, gesturing to the smelly oaf critically. "_Great_ thing to wake up to in the morning, if you have some _honey_."

Stradlater was mature enough to ignore him - more for the _girl's_ sake than his. It was clear that Wonders just wanted some attention, and he wasn't going to give the damned lizard the _satisfaction. _Playfully nudging the Bosmeri's shoulder with his elbow, she nodded her head and complied - concentration filling her cutesy face. "L-Like…" she raised her delicate, pasty hands; if she were any more cautious she wouldn't be so much as _breathing_. Gradually her shivering slowed as she spread her hands near the fire, letting colour fill her frozen palms with life and warmth. Her arms continuing to shake, she whimpered for his support. "… _This_?"

He patted her shoulder fatherly, finding her smile of pride more infectious than a rabid wolfhound pumped with rockjoint - an analogy that he _quickly_ pushed out of his mind's eye. "That's it." he acknowledged, hoping to steady her limbs. "_Easy_ now."

_He sounded like an owner pampering his pet._

_Who was it that coined the phrase "Give a dog a bone"?_

The Redguard could've sworn that the Bosmer had _never_ seen fire before, her eyes permanently aglow with youthful curiosity; and her lips pursed, as if letting out a silent "_Ooooo_" for all eternity. Destiny's fingers twitched as if plucking at the strings of an oversized fiddle, tempting fate to get just a bit closer to the fascinating event before her. To be brutally honest Stradlater probably would've stopped her from burning a digit if he wasn't too busy having an internal monologue and commentating on every movement she made.

"_Careful_!" her protector howled in sudden panic, his loudness and concern bringing _more_ fear and discomfort to the girl than the sear itself. Wonders watched on with confusion - one of his few _functional_ facial expressions - plastered upon his face. He couldn't quite remember the last time that the Redguard had become so worked up about such a _trivial_ occurrence; even around attractive women. Hurriedly Stradlater tugged at his belt, pouring some water from his leather waterskin and dampening the small injury. A whimper of worry and guilt from the girl brought him back to his senses, "_Shhhh_..." he hissed lowly, like a grass snake slinking across a meadow in search of children to terrify. Within moments she had snuggled against him, hiding behind the ever-present shroud of his maroon cloak. "_There_" he chuckled forcefully, like a craftsman pretending to be impressed by his apprentice's birthday gift. "Nothing _too_ bad."

"Well, she doesn't look like _you_. That's a relief." Wonders interjected, winking at Destiny in a way that resembled more of an insane twitch than a charming gesture. He could feel Stradlater's glare piercing through him like a bodkin arrow, yet for some reason a sense of _audacity_ and _challenge_ filled him - and he looked the intimidating warrior in the eye challengingly. "Wouldn't want her _scales_ to look like the back end of a _troll's_ _scrotum_ now, would we?"

Stradlater both scowled _and _snarled, the corner of his brown lips flinching with welled anger. He brushed Destiny's flowing hair to try and relieve his stress; the girl remaining reserved within the comfort of her makeshift shelter. "You sure those bees in your satchel aren't stinging your _arse_?" The Redguard asked with mock concern, "Because you're _really _sore right now, _Argonian_."

He _did_ have a sore arse - for _plenty_ of reasons, with energetic bees eager to mate being one of the _latter_. "I've been _sitting_ on it all day while your _pranced_ around like a giant high off tree sap." he growled in response, his nostrils flaring with irritation - the Redguard could've at least _learned _how to insult people first. "What _else_ can I say?"

Perhaps Stradlater felt threatened by his sheer _bodacity - _a word he _insisted_ was real, despite the denial of every scholar and gambler he'd met. Eventually he settled on silence, the harsh redness of rage simmering down and returning to the soft redness of dorky romance. "_Nothing_." he muttered calmly, making sure to squeeze in _just_ the right dosage of contempt to get his point across. The Redguard pulled Destiny towards him with a protective embrace; yet she didn't seem to mind the feeling of security - nor did he. "Don't listen to _him_." the nomad whispered conspiratorially, resting his chin upon the soft mat of her well-kept hair. The vulnerable woman nodded - more to make him happy than in understanding - as she snuggled into his warm, coiling arms.

Wonders felt like the third friend as a group walked down a narrow corridor - something he had essentially became in no less than a few _minutes_. "Nothing different to your _usual_, eh?" he snickered dryly, turning his back on his 'friend' and gazing at his own prize - his treasure chest, filled with all sorts of loot and plunder just _waiting _to be sold to the General Store in Whiterun. Sometimes he thought about what the shop owner could _possibly_ do with the sort of junk he shoved onto his shelves, but he'd seen _plenty _of strange things sold across the various markets of Tamriel.

_Ever seen someone buy a dog pelt that still had a collar on?_

The Argonian arrogantly strode towards his possessions, muttering to himself madly as he popped it open - reaching around the festering corpse within it to sort through what he had. "Ungrateful _git_." he snarled audibly, peeking back to see that Stradlater was too _wrapped up_ in affairs to deal with his intelligent friend's noble and fair counsel at the moment. "You _really_ are."

The warrior was having no trouble blocking out the childish repitilian mage, until he suddenly began to _hum_ to himself rather incessantly - off key and more cracked than a funeral urn crafted by a potter's paralysed grandmother. With a prod of his sandaled foot he nudged the fire's foundations, getting the flames to crackle and roar with greater intensity. "How's the finger?"

Destiny pouted childishly, her voice muffled by the Redguard's brawny chest - which she'd taken to clinging onto rather tightly. "... _Numb_."

"Can I see?" Stradlater questioned curiously, pinching onto the ends of his cloak and experimentally tugging it away; taking the lack of resistance as a sign of acceptance. While he wasn't _quite_ the Grand Paladin of the Vigilants of Stendarr, he'd seen _plenty _of burns in the past to differentiate the various degrees and severities. Encompassing her entire palm within the confines of his own, he examined her injured finger - it was merely red, with no singes to be seen across the _perfection_ of her flesh. Cautiously he tapped the digit, and - strangely enough - she _wriggled_ it in response.

Destiny gazed at him with a glint of _trickery_ gracing her usually unconfident expression. With swaying grace she continued to flex her finger before him, yet his eyes didn't follow the limb - they were _far _too entranced by her _beauty_. "I-I... Just wanted _you_ to warm it up..."

He couldn't quite tell if it was a sense of affection in the air that jogged him back to his senses, or the fact that Wonders had just reached his _favourite_ part of the chorus in "_Ragnar the Red_". Rest assured, a small part of him felt sorry for the Argonian - even if he was an arse, _sometimes_ he didn't mean to be. "_Cheeky_." he smirked at her dubiously, continuing to tap and nudge her trembling, miniscule digit. He had absolutely _no_ idea where the sudden compulsion came from, but before he could even comprehend his actions he'd leant forward and began blowing gentle torrents of air towards the wounded digit. Like a deaf bard being forced to improvise at a royal event, he stammered awkwardly "... H-How about _this_?"

_Either Wonders had fallen quieter, or he had been taken in entirely._

_Perhaps this, today and tomorrow, was his Destiny?_

Shuddering with ticklishness, the Bosmeri helplessly tried to squeeze her fingers - the powerful grasp of the muscular man like a vice about her frail form. She began to push towards him, confident that his standing stone of a body could bear her insubstantial weight. "_M-Mmhmm_." she exhaled airily, her flowery fragrance mingling with the crackles of the flame to relax his body. "Sir..." she whispered needily, pressing herself against him softly. Her lips pursed with a sense of expectation; that of a naive and nervous girl with _no_ idea what to do. "... _S-Sir_..."

If it was anything, it was _bestial._ Destiny was _begging_ for him.

He _had_ to oblige. How _couldn't_ he? Could he call himself an _honourable_ man if he _left_ this _poor_ woman by _herself_? He'd give her what she wanted - what she _needed _from him. He'd keep her _safe_; _nurture_ her; and make sure that _no one _laid a finger on her. The infant curls of a smile tugged at her masterfully sculpted lips, a sudden glow of fiery crimson compassion flashing across her eyes.

_Literally._

Stradlater may have not been a _particularly_ well versed biologist of the Bosmer, but he was pretty certain that in _most_ cases having your eyes flash red wasn't a sign of love or affection - or of _nature_, to be exact.

Now that he thought about it, just about _everything_ seemed off. Hadn't Wonders spoke of colourful, radiant scales shielding Destiny from head to toe? Wasn't he the sort of peculiar ultra-nationalist that was so obsessed with his identity, that he'd sooner shag a rather mossy-looking chunk of _stone_ than flirt with someone - or rather _something_ - that _wasn't_ Argonian?

_What exactly was he seeing in his Destiny?_

Stradlater's body continued exploring without his mind to hold it back, but like a conscience at a drunken festival he desperately tugged at the reigns and leaned back with _all_ of his strength. He clawed and he scratched, _desperate _to prevent this sudden threat from claiming him.

_A sudden sense of violation filled him._

_Alongside a sense of mild embarrassment, really._

_He'd been a total fool._

The Redguard found himself caressing her gentle features, admiring the tenderness of the young girl's cheeks under the rough touch of his palms. Destiny's fluttering eyelids at last settled, sealing closed with the combined sound of the roaring fire and Stradlater's calming breaths soothing her senses and bringing her to a state of tranquility. The Redguard's palms slid away from her beautiful form, the timid girl escaping his clutches for the _briefest_ of moments.

And with the creak and tear of the cheapest of clothing, he pulled back his arm and swung at her with a single, light-shattering punch - the sort reserved for people who owed you a substantial sum of septims, or had _lied _to you _profusely_ for their own gain. Thrown to the floor by the unexpected force, Destiny blacked out faster than an Imperial with a gambling addiction when the mead sales were on - she'd be seeing _stars_ above, even with the shroud of the forest canopy.

Wonders lazily turned from his neatly arranged treasure chest at this sudden racket, hastily shovelling the grey and increasingly gangrenous bandit carcass back into its rightful spot and throwing himself upon it to appear as if he'd been paying attention. The sudden clank and clunk of the container's fragile contents jumbling into a terrible mess only caused his following scoff to gain in strength, as he glared at the towering Redguard standing over the perverted and over-sexed Argonian temptress

_At times like this, there was one word that fit all._

_"Gay."_

_X_

_(A/N): Apologies there: This was eventually going to be a single chapter, but it ended up so long that I divided it into one more... Which is where stuff actually happens! X_X_

_All in all not particularly proud about how this part turned out... It's harder to get a good balance than I intially thought, and the end result is a story that's weak on all fronts!_

_Oh well! Catch us later for the final chapter of Destiny, where our dubious duo at last realise the trickery that stands before them!_


End file.
